


To Walk Into Fire

by ClownheadMcFucker



Category: Children of Dune, Dune - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Sounding, F/M, Hand Jobs, Object Insertion, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sounding, Vaginal Sex, Wensicia Corrino likes it Freaky, extremely inappropriate use of a stiletto high heel, femme dom, yeah you can put two and two together with those h
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 22:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30011997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClownheadMcFucker/pseuds/ClownheadMcFucker
Summary: Tyekanik had seen what happened to men who got on intimate terms with Wensicia Corrino. He knew that allowing himself to be seduced by her would be allowing himself to be ensnared by her as well. And yet, he found himself unable to resist her.
Relationships: Tyekanik/Wensicia Corrino
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	To Walk Into Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Mixed feelings about the fact that this will be the very first fic to feature Tyek as a tagged character. I am very fond of him (as far as minor characters in Dune sequels go) so I think he probably deserves better than what I’m putting him through in this but uh *shrugs* :)) 
> 
> This pushes it a lil in the safe and sane department, but it is at least consensual. Tyek is enjoying himself very very much even though he knows he probably shouldn’t for more than the obvious reasons. Hope you enjoy too~

Tyek’s thoughts had been drifting more and more to Farad’n lately. Ever since it had struck him how much the boy had truly grown. 

Farad’n possessed many of the good qualities of his mother and grandfather. He was determined in his studious endeavors just as his mother and grandfather were in their own passions. But Farad’n rivaled them both in his sense of self. In his unmalleable moral character. 

When the time came, Tyekanik believed that Farad’n would not allow himself to be puppeteered by his mother. 

He ought not to be thinking of Farad’n at this moment though, he realized. For one because it was inappropriate, but chiefly because– 

“Tyekanik!” Wensicia spat, delivering a kick to his groin. Particularly bruising from where she stood over him. “You’re not paying attention to me,” she said. 

–Wensicia had little patience for inattentiveness. 

“Forgive me, Princess.” 

“No. I don’t think I will,” Wensicia said, smiling as she ground the heel of her stiletto into his flesh. 

Tyek had noted to himself that Wensicia was a dangerous woman to get too… _familiar_ with when he’d seen what happened to the Levenbrech, but ultimately he’d been unable to resist the temptation. It was not simply the fact that he would walk into fire for Wensicia–as he’d once told her–that weakened his ability to refuse her beck and call. And it was neither loyalty nor duty that compelled him in this moment, but selfish desire. She’d coaxed him with weeks worth of vile little whispers of what she’d done with the Levenbrech before his demise at the claws of the Laza, of what she’d done with other men before him, of what she’d do with Tyek. And she had kept her word. 

“Talented” felt like a strange word for these types of acts, but Wensicia was truly talented. The perfect blend of pain and pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to indulge in such particular tastes and it was exquisite. 

Wensicia did not allow any of the male house staff or any of her bedfellows to enter her bed-chamber for any reason. Instead, she had her fun in an adjacent room that could only be entered through a secret passage. She often–in jest–referred to it as her “torture chamber”, but given her taste, it was not entirely untrue. In other regards, Tyek thought, the room was not unpleasant. Swathed in gauzy hangings and decadently soft furniture. 

Among the furniture was a large, flat loveseat which Tyekanik was currently affixed to. His forearms tightly bound together from wrist to elbow, stretching his shoulders apart and forcing his chest out in a way that dizzyingly prevented him from drawing complete breaths. On his cock a tight ring that put a pleasant, biting pressure on the shaft, along with a weighted band around his balls that not only prevented him from cumming but pulled them downward somewhat painfully. 

Wensicia dragged her heel sharply across Tyekaninik’s thigh before teasing it up the length of his erect cock. She lifted her foot and pressed the bottom of the thin little stiletto into the head. 

“How much of this do you think you can take?” she asked, wriggling her ankle so that the material of her heel caught the light, glimmering. “Two inches? An inch?” 

Tyek shook his head and swallowed heavily. 

“Answer,” Wensicia said, threatening another kick. 

“I don’t know, Princess.” 

“Hm. Let’s find out then,” she said. “Don’t disappoint me.” She pushed down steadily until the stiletto penetrated. Watching as Tyekanik’s face distorted and as the outline of the stiletto could be seen pressing deeper from beneath the skin. Buried into him roughly a half-inch deep, it proved too thick and too blunt to go any deeper without causing some kind of lasting damage. A high sound came from the back of Tyekanik’s throat which Wensicia laughed in response to. 

“That’s it? How pathetic,” she said, ungently removing her heel from him. 

Soon after it was replaced with a lightly lubricated metal rod, hardly thinner than the stiletto but smoother and, of course, intended for this purpose. She worked it into the slit, the entirety of it slipping into him with trained ease as soon as she loosened her fingers around it. He reveled in the weight of it inside him, the pressure it put in the pit of his groin. 

She pulled and pushed it in and out of him, little beads of precum and lubricant occasionally working their way out. 

“Disgusting. Enjoying yourself even when I’m punishing you? Well, that just won’t do, Tyek,” Wensicia said, tightening the binds on his cock. 

Again the word “talented” made its way to Tyekanik’s mind, the way she was able to keep him hard while still denying him even the slightest release. 

With the sounding rod still driven into his cock, Wensicia straddled Tyekanik and pulled aside the thin material of her lingerie, letting a string of wetness drip out across her thigh. 

“ _This_ ,” Wensicia said, gripping Tyekanik’s cock, “belongs to _me _, If you move or make a sound before I say so, then I’ll punish you again, Tyekanik, understand?”__

__He silenced the _Yes, Princess._ that nearly left his lip, nodding obiedently instead. _ _

__“ _Good._ ” She sunk down onto his cock and began riding him for her own pleasure. _ _

__For an agonizing length of time, Tyek merely watched her. Soaking in her beauty, the form of her body falling and rising over him. He panted as quietly as he could, sweating increasingly from his concentrated effort to obey her command. Each downward movement of Wensicia’s body pressed into the top of the sounding rod, hitting a deep spot inside the both of them respectively and creating a mutually pleasurable sensation. With every bolt of pleasure, Tyek feared that he would fail at his task._ _

__Finally, Wensicia ran her hands up and down his sides “Move your hips for me now, Tyek. If you’re any good I might even reward you afterward,” she said, reaching back to give his balls a quick but ungentle squeeze._ _

__It took a few moments of squirming before he could properly position himself, feet flat on the sofa’s surface to give him enough leverage to work his hips. It wasn’t enough to be in a position to simply roll his hips, he wanted to be able to put the muscles of his entire lower body to use, to thrust up into Wensicia with force._ _

__Tyekanik’s core was painfully tight, and the weight on his balls ached with each trust but it was worth it to have Wensicia around him. To watch the pleasure mount on her features. She pretended to be unimpressed for as long as she could, but her face and voice gradually betrayed her little act. Her threats of punishment becoming more mild, and far less creative; her insults to his ability to perform spoken in a wavering tone, interjected with little gasps and moans._ _

__She came hard, clenching around him. The pleasure was immense but he could not come, groaning in frustration as she slipped off of him._ _

__She lay in her post-orgasm fog for a few minutes, absentmindedly dragging her nails across his inner thighs and atop his stomach._ _

__His cock still stood, slick and flushed with her wetness._ _

__“Well,” she said, “I supposed you have earned this.” She removed the binds across the base of cock and balls, taking her time in languidly sliding the sound out of him. He sighed with the freedom of his cock, twitching and visibly throbbing with renewed blood flow. He’d never felt so hard in his life._ _

__She gave his cock a full-lipped kiss upon the head before she wrapped her hand firmly around it, pumping him._ _

__He thought he might cry when he finally came, it felt so good. She continued with shallow strokes just beneath the head as he came, milking out every drop of his release. But she did not stop after he finished, her pace unwavering even as he started to soften in her grip. What began as pleasure gradually turned to a squirming discomfort, to pain. Pressing her thumb against the slit, grinding her palm roughly into the glands._ _

__Wensicia had a peaceful look on her face while she rubbed his cock raw, ignoring entirely the way his abdomen clenched, thighs spasming uncontrollably. Ignoring too his many choked out pleads–those which were pleads for more and those which were cries for mercy, indistinguishable from one another–as if she couldn’t hear them. His entire face and chest were feverishly flushed, he could hardly breathe._ _

__Spots of white danced across his eyes. “Please!” he choked out._ _

__Wensicia unceremoniously dropped his flaccid cock, letting it fall heavily against his thigh, swollen and leaking. Gasping, he made a terrible sound of relief that Wencisia found incredibly amusing as she stepped away from the loveseat._ _

__He allowed himself to drift off for a moment as he recovered, breathing out little “thank you”s in Wensicia’s direction. Sleep tempted him but he willed his eyes open, focusing his attention on staring at the ceiling and listening to Wensicia to keep himself awake._ _

__He could hear her making her way around the little bathroom, humming a nonexistent tune to herself, giddy with post-sex pleasure. Cleaning herself up._ _

__Waiting for her to return and release him from the bonds which he could not undo himself, he lay back for some time, deciding finally to call out to her when he heard her hum drift dangerously close to the exiting passage._ _

__“Oh silly me,” she said, giggling as she freed him. “You know I once left him here for an entire day, twenty-four hours. Poor thing.” Wensicia laughed loudly and Tyek did not ask who _he_ was. Tyek wasn’t in the mood to hear another sordid tale of the things Wensicia enjoyed doing to men. The thought occurred to him then that he may have to put considerable effort going forward into not finding himself among them–of men spoken of in _past tense._ _ _

__Having fought so strongly against unconsciousness, his exhaustion was replaced with jitteriness. He wasn’t sure sleep would come easily to him even after he reached his own bed._ _

__When feeling returned to his arms–numb, from having been pinned beneath his back–he rubbed his thumb across the red indentations from where he’d been bound. The mark at the base of his cock still alarmingly vibrant against his dark skin, and still painfully sensitive beneath the brush of his clothing as he dressed._ _

__He smoothed his rumpled garments as best he could, he only needed them as long as it took to return to his own chamber. The lines in his face deepened when he realized that the scent of Wensicia permeated off of him even through his uniform. He hoped he would not cross paths with any of the particularly perceptive or gossip-inclined night guardsmen on his way–most staff in Wensicia’s employ who met one description tended to fit the other as well._ _

__Though he ran more risk of being noticed by the wrong type of guards, Tyekanik decided to take a slightly longer route walking back to his chamber, hoping the few extra paces would bring back the exhaustion that would put him to sleep._ _

__The desired exhaustion was not achieved as Tyekanik passed by the library. A fighting response awakening in him as he noticed a bit of light shifting beneath the door._ _

__Entering cautiously, Tyekanik’s chest fell both with a sigh of relief, and the heaviness of shame. It was Farad’n in the library, asleep with his head on a desk._ _

__Tyekanik was not ashamed of the act itself, but that it had been with Wensicia–with Farad’n’s mother._ _

__The shift in light that Tyekanik had seen was a stack of documents that had slid partially off the desk, causing a shadow to fall over the low glow globe that hovered nearby._ _

__Tyek looked at Farad’n with fondness, his glasses askew and partially smushed beneath his face. Still such a child that he would fall asleep in the library while pouring over some favored tome. Tyek thought of waking Farad’n and escorting him part-way to his chamber but thought better of it. There was no need to wake him to make him return to his bedroom, he was after all _not_ a child any longer. _ _

__And besides, the task would require him to look Farad’n in the eye, and it was something he was not yet ready to do._ _

__Tyekanik continued down the hall–knowing that by morning the red lines upon his skin would fade away, hoping, that shame would too._ _


End file.
